I want a hamburger.

This may sound strange. As a general rule, I don't eat hamburgers. I could count on one hand, for instance, the hamburgers I've eaten in the past ten years. There was the time I was driving down from Tahoe after a girls' weekend with a carful of my then-boyfriend's female relatives. We stopped at In-N-Out, a place I've eaten only once or twice (and I'm from California. I know, I know.) I ordered a hamburger. Pretty simple, right? Little did I know that you're supposed to order a cheeseburger, and a hamburger sans cheese is actually a disgusting foodstuff not worth consuming. At least, that's what the revolted looks on the faces of the Clan told me: "No cheese? REALLY? EW! WHY NOT???" (Seriously? Is cheese that important? I don't think you can even taste the cheese on a hamburger - there are so many other flavors going on - but clearly I'm not an expert. Clearly.)

I had been living my life under the woeful misapprehension that ordering a hamburger was a simple proposition; I didn't understand that hamburger eaters are a part of a particular, if not particularly exclusive, subculture. The way you eat your hamburger (or don't) can align you with (or exclude you from) a group of people, potential in-laws included.

So I don't eat hamburgers. I know some may find this a sacrilege. For some, hamburgers are a food group entirely their own, a basic form of sustenance meant to be consumed, along with other meat-and-bread combinations, as often as possible. Not me. Too many apples and ice cream to be had, I suppose. I guess I think it's strange that hamburgers, along with so many other American staples, have never really entered my personal food lexicon. Part of it, I think, has to do with being a girl, and a health-conscious one to boot. The other part has to do with spending formative years in boarding school and in France, where hamburgers were few and far between (Quick and MacDo notwithstanding). And then I became a foodie. Why order a hamburger when there are boquerones and ceviche and tartare and duck to be sampled?

The bigger question, at least right now, is this: so why do I want a hamburger now? We're talking about an honest-to-goodness, full-bore, legitimate craving. It's not for a fast food hamburger, either, which are the only hamburgers I've eaten in recent memory. I want to sink my teeth into an inch-thick patty, rare and juicy, on a thick, squishy bun. I want sauteed onions and blue cheese on top, and I want a pile of shoestring fries on the side. And ketchup.

This is so weird. I don't even know where to get such a thing. I may have to make it myself.

To be continued...